I'm Gone
by Cheap Libertad
Summary: All she wanted was some peace and quiet. Little did she know her office partner and a vengeful accident victim were lurking on the sidelines, plotting and scheming, waiting for the right moment to ruin her life.


Woohoo, new post! And it's humor! Possibly failed humor but that really doesn't count. My other fic is getting a bit serious for my liking, so I had to take a break, here's what we've got so far. Hope you take pleasure in my efforts! Oh, and do worship my beta, **Volpone**, we would be in such a mess without her. Enjoy.

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 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**I'm Gone**

_By: Cheap Libertad_

**Chapter One**_ – Everything's Good_

Temper is a difficult thing to control, especially in the company of people. On one's own time, temper is well behaved, unless you are accident-prone. When you couple temper with the majority of an institution, things can go wrong. Sometimes the urge is just too great, we yield to the temptation in anger and pound the source of annoyance to oblivion. This is the perfect approach if you are desperately trying to lose your job. Yet, there are instances where quelling said urge is rightly impossible. Instances such as these enjoy popping up at the most inopportune moments. ****

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A giggle.

I screwed my eyes shut.

Please tell me this is not happening. 

The hate radiating from the deities above me was palpable. Whoever it may be, they certainly did enjoy sending smite induced horrors toward my general vicinity.

A sickening smack of lips.

I was beginning to feel a little ill. The urge to scream was overpowering. But I dearly wanted to keep my job so I tried to ignore it. I'd been ignoring it for the past half hour so I didn't know how much longer I could hold out.

A scatter of snowy papers shoved from the misused desk, making room for more important matters.

Office romances are banned, with reason! Okay, deep breaths. 

My hair wasn't going last much longer. 

Another giggle.

Flowers, ponies, sunshine. 

A moan.

I was beginning to develop a twitch.

"Oh, god!"

Earplugs! Where did I put my earplugs?

A grunt.

There was grunting. My lunch was due for another visit. 

Rapid squeaking.

The hinges didn't sound like they were made for those activities. I hoped they would collapse, but I wouldn't be so lucky. If that were to happen then there would be a possibility that their activities could travel into my range of vision. 

My skin crawled at the thought. I might have to gouge my eyes out.

They began hyperventilating. 

I couldn't take it anymore. I quit. My resignation would be on the desk immediately. I was going write it right now. ****

My hands were shaking. 

Where's the pen? Out of this whole office there was a single pen. Now whose great idea was that? 

There was a banging on the wall and it knocked over my coffee. It didn't really matter; the thing had been cold anyway. Mr. Takahara wouldn't be too thrilled about the stain though.

I'd found the pen but I was not going to get it. It was right at the door. Which was wide open. We didn't need to go near it.

"Oh god!"

Not again. I wish someone would have shot me. There would be pleasure taken in the feeling of my brains leaking from my ears. 

I glanced at the clock. It read ten 'til six, just ten minuets closer to freedom. I could last ten minuets.

"Yes! Yes!"

Maybe not. Coffee break time. The fifth one in a half an hour. Last time I had stepped outside the office my boss threatened to fire me. He was going think I liked slacking off if I kept going for coffee. 

Ha. I'd like to see him work in my situation. Quiet, friendly working environment my ass. Shove you in the office connected to Horn dogs Incorporated and see how much work you get done.

A chorus of groans.

If they were quiet I wouldn't mind if they were friendly.

I stood up flustered. Mr. Takahara could stick his 'important' reports, if he didn't I'd gladly do it for him. It would be my last services to Aikawa Entertainment. I smoothed back my hair and crept to the second door of my office. No one was in the hall, so I ducked and made a run for it. As darted into the break room I grabbed the door and swung it shut. Whirling around, I came face to chest with Maki Takahara. His neck and cheeks turned a peculiar shade of red as steaming coffee dripped down the front of his pants.

"Higurashi," he hissed. "I'll be needing you in my office after your break."

            Break was stressed. 

            I looked down at my shoes as he stormed past, slamming the door hard enough to shatter glass. 

            There went my day job.

I shuffled into the room and slumped into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. I really did like this job. It paid nicely and the office was barely molding. Some good would come out of it though. I would no longer be shoved in the company of Good Times Central. Sighing, I grabbed a cup of tea for a change and slunk off to my doom.

Mr. Takahara was doing breathing exercises as I walked in. I hoped they worked. No matter how much I hate the people, my job feeds me. He glanced from his stress ball and scowled, making his skin pull tightly from his nose and eyes but sag at his mouth. His impression of a bulldog could win contests.

"Higurashi," he started, beady eyes calculating and mashed nose twitching. "This department requires dedication, which you seem to lacking. Your frequent excursions to the break room are becoming more numerous, and this is impeding upon the quality of your work." 

            He conveniently overlooked what happens in my office space. 

            "Therefore, I am giving you a warning. If you do not improve drastically and your visits to acquire coffee diminish, I will be forced to fire you." 

            I wouldn't mind diminishing his jaw, but I keep those thoughts to myself.

"Yes, Mr. Takahara," I said with false sincerity. 

            This guy is an idiot. 

            "I would like to make a request though, sir." He gave me a clearly disapproving look saying, 'you're in no position to request anything.' I resisted the urge to snort. "My office partner, Hiten-san, is – well, ah – distracting. Um, noise is a – um, problem." Mr. Takahara digested my hand movements and stutter. I'm sure I was blushing but it finally dawned on him. The man looked like he'd just bit into a lemon.

"Get back to work Higurashi. I'll deal with the problem." I nodded and scuttled out of the office, hurrying back into mine. It was finally six o'clock. There was no noise as I gathered my things and distastefully shut my partner's door with a bundle of files. Mr. Takahara was going to fix the problem. I felt relieved. With a newfound cheeriness I headed to the parking lot.

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I bopped along to the music blasting from the speakers as cars zoomed past. I began to think the stoplight was rigged. It had been red for what feels like ten minuets, but nothing could bother me now, because the more I thought about it the better my position got. Grabbing a bottle of water from the back seat I downed it quickly. 

            Coffee was an unhealthy addiction, I was weaning myself. 

            I would no longer have Hiten's 'activities' to bother me. This would be better for work, and when work was better you could get promoted. Promotions are good. 

I was smiling madly as the cars continue to pass. The light still hadn't changed but it didn't matter. I took another gulp from my water and giggled. Life was looking peachy. I reached to the back to get my purse but a honk from behind me was startling. I jumped and realized the light was green. 

Flooring it may not have been the best reaction. 

Now there was more honking but this time it was coming from the side. I glanced over to realize another car was headed straight in my direction. I froze completely as the headlights flashed into my eyes. The squealing of tires not my own came to a grinding halt as the car smashed into my rear end. My car fishtailed down the intersection as the other ricocheted backwards and into a mass of orange safety cones. The air bag blasted from the steering wheel as my seatbelt ground into my chest.

I was shaking and couldn't breathe properly. I clutched at the seats then looked out my splintering side window. The other car was mangled. I realized that the driver and passengers could be severely injured while I sat without a scratch. I tore from the seat and rushed to the other vehicle. There are no passengers but the diver was struggling with her airbags. I wrenched open the door and helped her out.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?!" she screamed, clutching at a tangled mass of black hair. "You could have killed someone! Why weren't you paying more attention?!" I already felt amazingly guilty, I really wasn't paying attention but she had no reason to yell at me like that. She was just as involved as I was! I wasn't being hysterical; I had been trying to help!

"You're to blame too!" I yelled, feeling petty. "My light was green, what were you doing?" She stared at me in disbelief and fury. I could tell she wanted to hit me, I think that's why she did. 

I sputtered as she drew back her hand again, ready to slap me for a second time. I shoved her before she could strike, then reel to the side. She staggered backwards, trying to remain balanced on her amazingly high, pointed shoes. My cheek was stinging. She had no right to do that.

"Bitch!" She spat. "What do you think you're doing, girl? First you cause an accident then you assault me?" I blinked. Wait a minuet, what?

"I caused the accident? You hit me!" I was nearly fanatical, how dare she accuse me? "You slapped me first! I didn't do anything. I was helping until you screamed in my face! I was acting in self-defense!" She stormed toward me but a man rushed between us before she could reach. 

"Hold it!" he bellowed. "You both calm down. The police are coming, let them settle it." The woman balled her fists, stalked to her car and yanked out her cell phone. She angrily punched numbers and scowled in my direction. I seethed and headed toward my car to inspect the damages.

            The rear of my less than perfect car was smashed. There was no reason to try and fix it, it was beyond repair and the car was past its prime anyway. My passenger side windows were also smashed. Water was dripping from my interior. It was sopping wet and I was afraid if I opened the door, my bottles would float out. Simmering, I glared at the thing. 

            Stupid woman. 

            It was a good car while it lasted, I was attached. 

            A whirring of sirens signaled the police's arrival.  An ambulance also pulled up. I was relieved, as long as they kept that awful woman away from me and saw that it was all her fault. 

            The men stepped out and separated towards us both. I waited impatiently as the pudgy cop trotted my way. He took off his glasses and looked at me blandly.

            "License and registration?" he muttered, taking out a pad of paper from his pockets. I reached into my glove compartment and gathered my purse from the back. I shoved the papers into his hands and scrounged for my license. He glanced at the picture and grimaced.

            Okay, so I wasn't particularly attractive that day, but no one is perfect.

            Mr. Kizuguchi, as I read from his little badge, snorted and handed my papers back. He reapplied his glasses and it annoyed me. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or not.

            "Kagome Higurashi," he read from his pamphlet. "Is all your information up to date?" I nodded and he continued. "Can you tell me what happened miss Higurashi?" I glowered and relayed the story to him, glancing at the other woman every so often. She was waving her hands wildly and screeching where I could barely make out her words. The officer nodded as I stomped my foot for emphasis, detailing her accusations and fuming. He scribbled on his pamphlet and nodded again for good measure. Glancing at his partner, he sighed.

            "Stay here while I report this miss Higurashi. I'll be back shortly." The pudgy man waddled away. I sunk into my maimed vehicle and waited. I hoped that woman would get it. Not that I knew what it is, but it should have been something bad. 

            A shadow fell across me. I looked up to see a paramedic. He stooped to my level and smiled slightly, looking tired. I tried for his sake to be friendly and cooperative.

"Miss are you in any pain? Have you suffered any injuries?" It wasn't until he asked the question did I realize that breathing was difficult.

"My chest hurts. It's hard to breathe." He nodded and herded me to the ambulance. The other woman was there as well, being loaded onto a stretcher. She glowered at me as best as she could over the neck brace. I instantly felt bad for wishing she'd been hurt. My conscience had once again fooled me into being humanitarian. It was a dirty trick.

The paramedic insisted I ride in the ambulance. So we sat in an awkward silence for the entire trip. The air was thick and uncomfortable, the only sounds being the sirens and random static from the radios. The woman, who I learned was Kikyo Tsujui, stared blankly at the ceiling, occasionally sending daggers in my direction. I was feeling horrible and kept my head down. 

When we reached the hospital Kikyo was wheeled away and I was placed in a stark room with a flimsy paper gown. Hospitals gave me the creeps. I shivered at the thought of needles.

The room was quiet except for my breathing, which was now coming in wheezes. A strange itch started in my lungs and I went into a coughing fit. My eyes began to water but I couldn't stop. The door opened and a stuffy looking nurse came in, but I was too preoccupied with little things like air to notice.

A slap to my back echoed in the room. I jerked upright, my coughs turning to choking gasps. The nurse was beginning to look worried but she was turning fuzzy so I could have been wrong. She rushed from the room and the next thing I know, I was being rushed on a stretcher at about fifty miles an hour down the hallway.

 The rest was a blurry and muffled. White lights burned my eyes and at one point there was something shoved down my throat. People tried talking to me but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I think I may have blacked out from lack of oxygen but it could have been the drugs. Something sharp stuck though my ribs cleared my thoughts for a moment. It was silent then in a rush, sound came back and my brain felt fried. They must have realized this and cranked up the morphine dosage because after that I was out.

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I woke up in a lumpy hospital bed. The lights were dimmed and the curtains were drawn. I guessed my condition to be death, or barely clinging to life, because I felt like someone had just smashed a brick repeatedly into my chest. Trying to open my mouth, I realized there was a tube taped there. It was not a nice feeling. I tried twitching my fingers but they were numb.

I wished someone would come in and take the tube out of my throat. My ribs were aching and the bandages were beginning to itch. My body was cold; the sterile hospital sheets weren't helping. I lay staring at the paneled ceiling as the bleep of machines started to annoy me.

A whoosh and the door was opened. The lights flickered on and the curtain was jerked back. A man I assumed was my doctor stepped to the foot of my bed and picked up the clipboard.

He was young, fairly tall with short black hair and dark eyes. When he looked up he smiled, showing perfect, blindingly white teeth.

"Miss Higurashi, I see you're awake." He sidled up to the bed and peered and his clipboard. "I'm Miroku Shigoto, your pulmonologist. I'm guessing you want to know what's going on." I would have rolled my eyes if I wasn't so tired. "The reason you couldn't breath was because your lungs were being filled with fluid. It seems that your accident cracked a few of your ribs, which in turn were puncturing you lungs." It made sense, but had they fixed it?

Dr. Shigoto placed his clipboard at the foot of my bed then took my hand. He began rubbing circles into my palm, which I thought was strange. He was being very unprofessional. It was making me uncomfortable.

"The problem has been fixed but we want to keep you for the next forty eight hours." He said. "Just to monitor your health, for your safety." His fingers were traveling up my arm when the door swung open. The doctor immediately dropped his hands and turned around.

"Miroku, you were supposed to come and get me!" pouted the young man. He was short and wiry with a mop of red hair and bright green eyes. He looked eerily familiar.

"Miss Higurashi, this is my 'assistant' Shippou Asamiya." 

I was shocked. Shippou? My little Shippou?

"Kagome?" he asked. I nodded my head. I could see he was trying to control himself. "I missed you so much Kagome!" He rushed to my side and hugged me lightly. I still winced though he was being gentle. Dr. Shigoto coughed and Shippou settled for clasping my hand like a vice. I was worried I might have a broken hand as well as cracked ribs by the time I left the hospital.

"Apparently you know each other." The doctor raised his eyebrows and clasped his hands behind his back. "Well Miss Higurashi, you should be getting your rest. There is a Mr. Houjo Yamada in the waiting room. He's asked to see you. Would you like me to send him in?" 

I shook my head. I really didn't feel like seeing Houjo right now. He always managed to give me a headache. Shippou squeezed my hand as he stood. 

"I'll come by later Kagome," he smiled and practically shoved Dr. Shigoto out of the room. I was left wondering what kind of doctor he was exactly. He seemed a little touchy-feely to me.

I was also wondering about Shippou. I hadn't seen him in years, since he was twelve. His grandmother had died and he was forced to move in with his uncle. He would be nineteen in July. He had always wanted to be a doctor, and now he was on his way there. I always knew he was too smart for his own good.

The air-conditioning buzzed on, humming slightly. I shivered. It was cold already. I couldn't help but wonder about the woman I'd hit, Kikyo. If I was feeling like this then how was she doing?

Sighing, I closed my eyes. My chest hurt and I didn't feel like thinking anymore. Tomorrow I would have to deal with Houjo and possibly my family, if they could be contacted. The police would have to come by too. My head was starting to pound just thinking about it.

Trying not to move much, I sank into the bed, absorbing the warmth. The drugs were kicking again and I was nodding off just as another thought struck me.

Souta was coming in from America tonight. 

My fridge was going to be massacred. My secret stash was going to be gone. My oden would be gone. I wanted to cry. After two days in a hospital with a tube shoved down my throat I was going to want food when I was released. But by that time there would be no food, much less a refrigerator to keep it all in. I would have groaned if I was able, but instead I settled for passing out.

I was in for it when I got out of here. 

Where was Buddha when you needed him?

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Reviews are like leather. Kinky and enticing, for dual entertainment. 


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